


Wrestle To The Ground, God Help Me Now

by TheForgottenDreams



Series: I Said 'I Love You' [8]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music, Beach Holidays, Bets, Campfires, Enjolras Has Feelings, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Grantaire Has Feelings, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Singing, Suncream Application, Yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 15:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7228975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheForgottenDreams/pseuds/TheForgottenDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You say that like you don’t want to.” Enjolras quirked an eyebrow and oh shit, no, that and their positioning was too hot to handle, “And I am personally offended by that.” </p>
<p>“What are you going to do about it?” </p>
<p>“I am going to make you want to touch me, to kiss me, to fuck me senseless.” Enjolras whispered. </p>
<p>“Why does that sound like a challenge?” Grantaire asked, grip slackening, keeping up his bravado despite the effect Enjolras’ words had on him.</p>
<p>Enjolras laughed wickedly, flipping them over easily in Grantaire’s distraction, grinding slightly down making it look like an accident to anyone watching, as he spoke voice low and calculated to make Grantaire shiver, “Because it is.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrestle To The Ground, God Help Me Now

“Come _on_ R.” Enjolras shouted from where he stood, arms spread out, head back, face to the sun that smiled down on him, lighting him up in gold and red. His toned chest and stomach gleaming with his summer tan, red swimming trucks contrasting, reminding Grantaire of danger or lust. He was struck by how young Enjolras was, it may only be four years between them but in that moment it felt like more.

“I’m coming.” Grantaire smirked, picking up the pace as he jogged to the blond, trying not to feel old in comparison.

Behind him he could hear Cosette gossiping and taking photos with Courfeyrac and Jehan, Feuilly sat not far from them reading with Combeferre on their towels under the parasols. Ahead of them Éponine’s screams rang along the beach as Bahorel held her on his shoulders, trying to push Musichetta off Bossuet’s shoulders as Joly stood, his worry evident as he tapped his foot. Marius didn’t notice, too busy picking up shells for Jehan to arrange into a poem for his aesthetics.

Grantaire ignored all of them, focusing on Enjolras as he twirled in the sun, curls bouncing as he grinned up at the sky. He seemed so free in that moment, his usual guard-up exterior now left somewhere back home, with all his stress and writers’ block, his laughter was as liberal as his dreams for France, vitality vibrant as he basked in the heat and light. Grantaire wanted him to be like that all the time.

But, obviously he had to tackle the blond first, just to hear his shrieks as Grantaire’s body collided with his own, knocking them down onto the sand, skin slipping against each other as they rolled across the beach, the closest contact they’d had since their friends had forced them to take a break and lodge at Cosette’s father’s beach house.

“Fuck you.” Enjolras growled, but it was completely faked if his laughter was anything to go by, struggling against Grantaire as they wrestled, eyes gleaming with a happiness like no other.

“You know you want to.” Grantaire replied.

He let Enjolras flipped them over so the blond was on top of him, he stopped fighting and let himself be held. Due to the secrecy of their relationship and their friends’ nosy tendencies, they’d had to act as if they hadn’t been sleeping with each other for the last few weeks and damn, it had been so much harder than Grantaire had expected, so much harder because Enjolras was so unintentionally sexy.

“I _do,_ fuck R, I _really do._ ” Enjolras sighed, relaxing his grip on the brunet.

“Knew it.” Grantaire smirked, seeing his moment to flip them over, their skin brushing against each other as they switched, sand coating their skin, their hair. Oddly, Grantaire, the resident sand-phobic cynical bastard, didn’t care, not when it meant he could touch Enjolras like this.

“You say that like you don’t want to.” Enjolras quirked an eyebrow and oh shit, no, that and their positioning was too hot to handle, “And I am personally offended by that.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I am going to make you want to touch me, to kiss me, to fuck me senseless.” Enjolras whispered.

“Why does that sound like a challenge?” Grantaire asked, grip slackening, keeping up his bravado despite the effect Enjolras’ words had on him.

Enjolras laughed wickedly, flipping them over easily in Grantaire’s distraction, grinding slightly down making it look like an accident to anyone watching, as he spoke voice low and calculated to make Grantaire shiver, “Because it is.”

_“Fuck.”_ Grantaire groaned, because yes, having Enjolras so close, but knowing they couldn’t do anything without revealing their secret to their friends was turning him on. He knew it was a problem.

Enjolras smirked, pleased with Grantaire’s reaction, looking every bit like the sun God beaming down on them. “Race you.”

And with that he was up and sprinting to the sea, laughing all the way.

 

-

 

“What _the fuck_ are you doing?” Grantaire asked, carrying the cooler with their beers, fizzy pop and other beverages as Courfeyrac demanded. He put it down under a parasol in the shade, on the PR’s towel, Courfeyrac cheered and started dishing the drinks out to the rest of their group who had gathered there.

“Yoga.” Jehan answered, changing position so his bum was in the air as his hands and feet met the sand. Beside him Cosette and Enjolras copied, skin still damp from their swim, hair curling as it dried in the sun.

“Do you have a problem with that?” Enjolras asked, his bum in the air, right in Grantaire’s eye range, there was a smirk dancing on the blond’s lips as he looked at Grantaire through his legs. Holy shit, that shouldn’t be so suggestive, yoga is fucked up, great view though.  
.  
“No, Enjy, I don’t. Cosette do you want some pictures of you three?” Grantaire asked, turning his attention to where she was stood, yogaing – he wasn’t sure of the verb.

“Go for it.” She replied as they changed position, each lifting their left leg into the air.

Grantaire picked up the camera from where she’d left it on her towel and snapped some shots. He got them all lined up, got the curves of their bodies against the sun as they moved, there was a beauty to it, seeing the body distorted, elongated, cramped up. And obviously the angles and the swimming trunks did wonders to Enjolras’ ass.

Fuck, Grantaire saw his plan.

1:0 to Enjolras.

-

 

“Come get your shitty mint ice cream, babe.” Éponine called to where Grantaire had been drying out from the swim he’d needed after watching the yoga session. She held the offending cone out to him, nose wrinkled, face turned away as she licked her own strawberry one.

“It’s not shitty.” He rolled his eyes, but got up from his towel and took it from her giving a big sloppy to her kiss on the cheek, she punched him as he turned to sit back down, but grinned, falling onto her towel in massively heeled wedges and skimpy black bikini, sarong swishing around her ankles and with a grace that didn’t disrupt her ice cream at all.

“It’s the worst, don’t fight me on it.” She replied.

“Agreed.” Enjolras teased, flopping onto Éponine’s towel, pushing her over the towel a bit more, she rolled her eyes and punched him in the arm.

“Obviously _you_ agree with her.” Grantaire rolled his eyes, licking his ice cream.

“Friends who shade together stay together.” Éponine laughed, knocking their shoulders together with an ease she only had around Enjolras. Grantaire smiled, seeing them together always made him since it was so rare to see two people so in sync with each other, so accepting of each other. They were his friendship goals.

“So what did you get Apollo? Since you and ‘Ponine are ice cream connoisseurs.” Grantaire raised an eyebrow, eyes locked on Enjolras as he licked his ice cream slowly.

“A Fruit Pastel Ice Lolly.” Enjolras answered holding it up before taking off the packet.

“And that’s good?” Grantaire looked at him.

“For what I want yes.” He answered, sneaking a side look at Éponine who laughed.

“You three smile.” Cosette ordered, pointing the camera at them, they grinned and she took the photo, laughing at the faces they pulled. She flopped onto Grantaire’s blanket, camera clicking as she took photo after photo, slightly more modest than Éponine with a patterned kaftan over her pink bikini.

“Where’s your ice cream?” Grantaire asked her, eating his own.

“In my stomach, I ate it on the way back.” She explained, tuning the camera on him, taking the photo before he pulled a funny face. He frowned at her but she wrinkled her nose in triumph at him, kissing his cheek messily.

“I think I hate you.” He grumbled, shoving her away.

“You love me.” She dug an elbow into his ribs as he turned back to look at Enjolras and _oh god-_

No one should be able to make eating an ice lolly look as sexual as that. Grantaire felt his body heat, from face to stomach as Enjolras’ lips curled around the colourful ice, meeting his eye with evil intent. He moved his mouth back and forth along the ice a few times and Grantaire couldn’t stop staring.

Enjolras took the lolly from his mouth with a pop, Éponine at his side was laughing too much to eat her ice cream and it was now running down the cone onto her fingers, melted under the heat of the sun. Cosette’s camera clicked beside him, capturing the moment.

“What R?” Enjolras asked, feigning innocence as he fluttered his eyelashes, devilment dancing in his eyes and how had Grantaire gotten involved with an evil seducer like Enjolras?

“Nothing.” He lied, eyes zeroed in on Enjolras’ who raised an eyebrow, smirking like a dangerous bad boy.

“Good,” Enjolras smirked, licking his lolly slowly from bottom to top, tongue pink, eyes locked on Grantaire the whole time. The brunet gulped. “Your ice cream is melting, R.”

2:0 to Enjolras

 

-

 

“Have I won yet?” Enjolras asked, few towels over Combeferre slept soundly, the others had either gone to get the things for the barbeque or were back in the water messing around, leaving Grantaire, Enjolras and Combeferre under the parasols.

“What your little challenge?” Grantaire asked, pursing his lips with a small smile at the edges, sunglasses over his eyes, laid back, head on his hands. Over the course of the afternoon Enjolras had done various different things to try to get Grantaire hot and bothered, all had worked, but Enjolras didn’t need to know that.

“Obviously.” Enjolras was sat upon his towel, squirting sun cream into his hands.

“No I could go for weeks without…” He glanced at Combeferre, not wanting him to overhear and uncover their secret.

“Hmmm, sure.” Enjolras sighed, rubbing the sun lotion into his skin “Because I have plenty more up my sleeve.”

“Yeah?” Grantaire raised his eyebrows, sunglasses jumping with the movement as his eyes trailed Enjolras skin. Grantaire praised Jesus, Mary and Joseph for sunglasses, no one knows you’re watching them if they can’t see your eyes, something he learnt from spy movies when he was six and had taken full advantage of in the twenty years since the revelation.

“Oh yeah.” Enjolras smirked.

“Like?”

“Now that would be giving it away wouldn’t it ‘Taire?” He answered, rubbing his arm, massaging the skin. It was quite distracting.

“I’ll await your surprises then.” Grantaire answered, turning away to look down at their friends in the sea, Éponine was threatening Courfeyrac with murder apparently.

“Hey, will you rub the sun cream into my back please? You know how quick I burn and then Joly will have a heart attack about how I might have skin cancer.” Enjolras rolled his eyes, but his smile added affection to his words. “We don’t really need another A and E trip.”

“Sure…” Grantaire sat up, stretching to give Enjolras a view of his muscles – Jehan had written a poem on the wonders of his arms and Courfeyrac was always gushing about his abs, may as well flaunt what little he had. Judging by the redness of Enjolras’ face it worked. That or he was sunburnt.

“Thanks.” Enjolras grinned, tossing the sun cream tube to him.

He caught it easily as Enjolras turned around, moving closer and then they were sat in a two-person train and Grantaire has nothing to look at but the expanse of Enjolras back, the freckles scattered like stars across his shoulders down to his waist. He snapped back into action and squirted the sun cream onto his hand and then he was massaging it into Enjolras skin. It was soft and warm beneath his hands and he longed for the feel of Enjolras’ skin moving against his. He missed the feel of Enjolras hugging him, wrapping around him in sleep, missed the way his blond hair would tickle his nose, how their bodies felt together.

And then Enjolras groaned, low and deep but obscene.

“Oh _you little shit.”_ Grantaire marvelled, shaking his head.

Enjolras laughed in response but that broke off into a moan as Grantaire massage a particular knot in Enjolras’ shoulder, the sound making Grantaire’s skin alight with fire. Maybe he could have some fun with this, turn it back on the blond.

“Oh my God R, _oh_ my God.” Enjolras breathed, sounding so much like he did when Grantaire pulled his hair a certain way. Okay, maybe not. Mission abort Grantaire, stop.

“I hate you.”

“Yes, _yes_ right there, oh.” Enjolras gasped and Grantaire felt the light of a thousand suns fill his cheeks, why Enjolras never pursued a career as a porn star was beyond Grantaire. “Do you give up?”

“Never.”

“Oh, _oh_ , yes, oh yes, _Grantaire_.” Enjolras panted and Grantaire should be worried at how good Enjolras was at faking it, but he couldn’t when the sound was messing with his head and his temperature and his anatomy.

“Enjolras.” Grantaire groaned.

“Oh, _R, oh!”_ Enjolras exclaimed a little louder, clear he was done.

“It didn’t work.” Grantaire told him smugly.

“Oh didn’t it?” Enjolras asked, moving forward, turning back slightly raising an eyebrow at Grantaire and giving him the once over, very obviously.

The brunet looked down as Enjolras jogged up the beach to their friends, “Oh _fuck_ you.”

3:0 to Enjolras.

 

-

 

“Sing-a-long guys, let’s go!” Courfeyrac enthused as they settled around the campfire they’d made. Grantaire narrowed his eyes slightly trying to suss out whether this was a part of Enjolras’ plan, but the eye roll the blond gave Courfeyrac made him think not.

“That actually sounds like a great idea.” Cosette nodded, “I know you brought your guitar ‘Taire, because I brought it down here with the yoga mats.”

“I hate you.” Grantaire glared at her, sticking his tongue out in a childish way. Courfeyrac presented Grantaire’s guitar to him, on one knee, bowing his head, Grantaire laughed and took it from him with a wink.

“Grantaire, why don’t we duet?” Enjolras asked, quirking an eyebrow in the brunet’s direction.

“Oh my god, a mashup, yes!” Bahorel cheered from beside Feuilly, who had been in a discussion with Musichetta, but Bahorel’s loudness interrupted and now the two were glaring at him.

“Shall I play R and then you can join in singing?” Joly suggested, a smile on his lips.

“Yes please, Joly.” Grantaire grinned, passing the guitar to Joly who made grabby hands at it, beaming with excitement. “Bahorel will you accompany us on makeshift drums?”

“Obviously.” Bahorel rolled his eyes, smiling.

“Bossuet-“

“I’m going to sit this one out R.” Bossuet answered with a winced smile, he’d been the only one to get sunburn everywhere, Musichetta kept rubbing lotion into his burn but his pain was immense. It had taken them an hour to convince Joly that Bossuet would be fine. “I feel like I’ve been burnt inside as well as out.”

“Okay.”

“What are we singing?” Joly asked.

Enjolras laughed, “Follow my lead, you know it. I promise.”

“Just get on with it.” Éponine rolled her eyes from where she was cuddled up between Enjolras and Combeferre, Grantaire was opposite Enjolras so he saw the plan in Enjolras’ eyes and immediately knew this was part of his challenge and if Enjolras was singing, Grantaire was going to lose it.

_“And this is how it starts, take your shoes off in the back of my van.”_ Enjolras sang softly, Joly chuckled to himself, Éponine grinned next to him and Cosette let out a little gasp, _“My shirt looks so good when it’s just hanging off your back.”_

Bahorel started up a soft and slow rhythm matching Enjolras as he sang and Joly played the guitar gently, the instruments adding to Enjolras’ voice. They were chuckling under their breaths at his song selection and Grantaire saw what he was doing.

_“And he said use your hands and my spare time, we’ve got one thing in common, it’s this tongue of mine. He’s got a boyfriend anyway.”_ Enjolras met Grantaire’s eyes, making the change of pronouns obvious, he quirked an eyebrow, daring Grantaire to join in, _“There’s only minutes before I drop you off all we seem to do is talk about sex.”_

And Grantaire was fucked, this was so lovely, Enjolras’ gentle voice wrapping around his words, enunciating them clearly where Grantaire usually used his accent to muffle them. The look in his eyes as he sang directly to Grantaire, though their friends were there, mouthing along or recording it on their phones, swaying to the beat.

“ _He’s got a boyfriend anyway; he’s got a boyfriend anyway.”_ Grantaire joined in, his rough voice mixing with Enjolras’ sweet one, one of their friends sighed dreamily, the others sang along quietly. Maybe they just do this more often, make a duet and release it. Their fans would probably go crazy for it.

_“I loved your ‘friend when I saw his film, he’s got a funny face, but I like that, ‘cause he still looks cool.”_ Grantaire was singing alone now, Enjolras smiling at him. The others were watching and Cosette was snapping pictures, Jehan recording it on his phone, moving the camera to show them all.

_“He’s got a boyfriend anyway._ ” Enjolras sang again with Grantaire with the harmonises of Cosette, Éponine and Musichetta, _“He’s got a boyfriend anyway.”_

_“Now we’re on the bed in my room,”_ Enjolras soloed and Grantaire let the images flood into him, Enjolras and himself cuddling on the blond’s bed, away from the public eye, singing to each other, debating, kissing, fucking. He missed their physical interaction but he missed the way Enjolras looked after, blissed out and happy, how easily he fell asleep, curled up to Grantaire, muttering the brunet’s name in his sleep like he might be in love. He missed that a lot more than he thought he would. _“And I’m about to fill his shoes.”_

_“But you say no, you say no.”_ Grantaire sang, though he understood they couldn’t be together in front of their friends if they still wanted to keep their relationship a secret, it had been Enjolras who had suggested it and Grantaire was still hurting from that, it might be ridiculous and only a tiny sting, but a sting nonetheless.

_“Does he take care of you?”_ Enjolras met Grantaire’s eyes again, expression full of raw honestly, affection and something, something else, Grantaire had to look away. He couldn’t let himself hope because there was no way Enjolras felt the same, _“Or could I easily fill his shoes?”_

_“But you say no, you say no. Now we’re just outside of town and you’re making your way down.”_ Grantaire took the singing, with Enjolras going into backup, _“He’s got a boyfriend anyway; he’s got a boyfriend anyway.”_

_“And I’m not trying to stop you, love,”_ Enjolras here smirked, meeting Grantaire’s gaze, wickedness in his eyes, _“If we’re going to do anything we might as well just fuck.”_

Grantaire stifled a laugh because that’s what this had all been about, his challenge. God, Enjolras was a nerd, a sexy nerd but a nerd all the same. Grantaire just smiled back and sang at Enjolras, “He’s got a boyfriend anyway, he’s got a boyfriend anyway, you’ve got your tongue pierced anyway.”

_“You in your high tops any day._ ” Enjolras alternated.

_“You in your skinny jeans anyway.”_ Their eyes met because yes, Enjolras liked his skinny jeans and he had no idea they effected Grantaire so much, but they did, they clung to Enjolras’ lower half like a second skin as supposed to, it left little to the imagination.

_“You and your fit friends anyway.”_ Enjolras winked at Bahorel and Cosette. Grantaire’s band, Cosette, Musichetta and Marius were all absolutely beautiful in their own little ways, Enjolras had found them intimidating at first but once he realised none of them thought they were anything but average and he got accustomed to their faces, he was more at ease with them and their natural beauty.

_“I’d take them all out any day.”_ Grantaire shot back, making the others laugh quietly.

_“They’ve all got backcombs anyway.”_ At this Bossuet pouted and Musichetta and Joly kissed his cheeks, laughing as they did.

_“You all got boyfriends anyway._ ” They harmonised on the last line, making eye contact, Enjolras winked with a grin.

Game set and match, 4-0 to Enjolras.

**Author's Note:**

> some sexual tension to make up for the future pain. i've written a lot of bits for this and then i realised their relationship was going too fast so i've added chapters like this to extend it a little - my plan went from like ten instalments to twenty odd, so yeah...
> 
> thank you for reading. it means a lot.
> 
> if you want to talk, leave a comment here and i'll reply eventually or you can find me on tumblr as beelzebertha. thank you again.


End file.
